


cuddles

by treesramblings



Series: twelve days of stuckony [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Brutal Murder, Dark, Extremis Tony Stark, Human Experimentation, Hurt Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Possessive Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesramblings/pseuds/treesramblings
Summary: Tony is kidnapped by HYDRA. They planned for the Avengers to stage a rescue, but they didn't plan for howferociousthe Winter Soldier would be.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: twelve days of stuckony [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073828
Comments: 19
Kudos: 368





	cuddles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fundamentalBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fundamentalBlue/gifts).



> beta by the wonderful [tempuwu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tempuwu) x
> 
> for my [blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fundamentalBlue), who encourages me in everything I do (and helps me learn what types of beers exist in the world!).
> 
> sorry for the delay in posting! _/sobs_ I'm not having the best of luck apparently with my internet or anything. hopefully it should be okay now!
> 
> please enjoy! take care of your triggers, and let me know if I should add a tag!

Maya Hansen stares at the screen in front of her in anger.

She has been working on this project for _ten years_. She’s been the (co-)lead scientist and has worked tirelessly to finish their project, and they’re _so close_ to a breakthrough.

FuturePharm has been working with the US government to recreate Dr. Abraham Erskine’s super soldier serum since its inception. Since Dr. Aldrich Killian recruited her for this project. It’s turned into her whole life, and she’s determined to see it through.

With Captain America’s return from the dead, interest in the serum has risen, and more competitors have been seeking government funding in order to recreate it. Just a few months ago, she heard stories of renowned physicist Dr. Bruce Banner trying to use gamma radiation in his recreation attempts.

Pathetic.

And yet, the government seems to think he’s onto something. The computer screen in front of her tells it like it is.

FuturePharm is set to lose its funding. The government is going to back another horse.

Maya has to tell Killian. They have to figure out what they’re going to do.

Neither of them are prepared to give up. Not when they’re so close.

* * *

FuturePharm’s funding isn’t set to be revoked until the first of the new year. They begin finding volunteers to test out the formula as live test subjects. Gulf War and Vietnam veterans alike who lost limbs practically race to get a chance at having full mobility.

Most of the test subjects die. Some fall into comas and become vegetables.

Maya and Killian are desperate. It’s already November.

“Look, I’m sure that this change is what we need, Maya,” Killian says. “This will work. I’m sure of it.”

She sighs. “We’re out of subjects, Aldrich. We’re running out of time.”

“Then test it on me. I’m sure I can handle it. I’m sure we’ve got it right this time. I won’t fail like everyone else has.”

The eleventh hour calls her.

She says yes. Killian is tied down and injected the next day.

It works, but not without… side effects.

* * *

Maya looks into Killian’s biology, his gene sequences, his DNA, trying to find what went right—and what went wrong.

She discovers a specific gene sequence that gives her pause. She looks over the data from the previous subjects and her eyes widen.

Killian possesses a specific gene sequence. It’s rare. She looks more into it, and finds a study that shows only 2.5% of the population have it.

This is the key. She just has to figure out how to transplant this gene sequence into someone else.

Maya isn’t going to give up. She’s so close.

She then looks at what went wrong with his brain chemistry. Something must have interacted badly with Extremis.

Killian acts like he doesn’t care about anything except his own goals anymore. He cares only for himself, in getting power and fame and recognition for his genius.

(Maya knows she’s the actual brains behind the operation. She doesn’t need to prove it to him, though—she’ll prove it when she wins a Nobel Prize.)

Killian says he’s going to show the government that you don’t fuck with him.

They reach an impasse. They both argue over the next step they should take. Killian is frustrating her, and his personality change drives her insane.

She liked it better when she could just fuck him into submission.

Things get tense between them. Killian raises himself up, towering over her, and she doesn’t step down. She’s not going to let him intimidate her into giving in.

Just when a flash of actual worry flickers past her eyes, there’s a calm knock on the door.

The both of them stop. They turn to the door as one.

It opens.

Maya falls to her knee before she can stop it. Shock filters through her.

A living legend, in her presence?

“Rise, Frau Hansen,” the Red Skull commands.

He comes over and places a hand on her shoulder. Maya tries not to jump with excitement.

He explains to her where the serum went wrong with Killian. When Killian objects, the Red Skull only has to _look_ in his direction to quiet him. Maya shivers with arousal.

“My dear Maya,” he purrs, “there is actually the perfect candidate who has the same gene sequence. I am sure all your efforts and genius will be rewarded with a successful subject this time.”

* * *

“Widow, on your six!”

Tony cuts through the air like a knife, dodging each blast from the HYDRA weapons. Baron Von Strucker has vastly improved his battalion of soldiers since the last time the Avengers fought him.

“Thanks, Iron Man,” Natasha says, and Tony can see her twirling her batons, taking out three soldiers at once.

“Any headway into figuring out how to disable the weapons, Iron Man?” Steve voice cuts over the cacophony of sounds from the rest of the team’s fights, filling the air inside Tony’s suit.

Tony groans. “No, they’re being a bitch.”

“Language!” Tony’s cheeks hurt from grinning at the team teasing Steve. Steve’s sigh is audible even over the comms.

“One time. One time…”

An alert pops up on his HUD, and Tony reads it over, quick and to the point. “Well, they’re modified, combining sonic waves with electromagnetic pulses. I should be able to disable the power source with a single blast, but I have to find the right frequency—”

Whatever Von Strucker has done to make the weapons so powerful is frustrating beyond belief. Clint has already been hit, knocked out completely within the first five minutes of the fight. Apparently the sonic capabilities of the weapons do not mix well with hearing aids.

He’s irritated that they’re using EMPs. It means he can’t be near the action, and he’s separated from the group—

A thought strikes him.

“Fuck, _Steve_!” Tony shouts, but it’s too late.

He’s sent flying by an EMP aimed directly at his back. Tony gasps for air as his arc reactor dies in his chest and the suit around him. He starts falling toward the ground, the suit’s joints locked in place.

Before he hits the ground, he’s scooped up and thrown into a helicopter. The blades are loud in his ears, and the roar of jets fly by him. He can’t see what’s happening, but he can hear Thor’s enraged scream and the clap of thunder.

Thor will get him. He has to.

His mask is forcibly removed from his head. It pulls on his neck and he cries out in pain.

“Nighty night, Iron Man.” A man’s deep baritone singsongs the words to Tony before Tony’s struck against the head.

Right before he passes out, he imagines he can hear Steve screaming his name, and his last thought is simple.

 _James is going to kill me_.

* * *

Tony wakes up.

He almost wishes he hadn’t, with the way that he feels. The pain is worse than Saudi Arabia.

He’s strapped down onto a board. When he moves his arm, he can feel an IV taped to the inside of his elbow. He’s sluggish. Everything is blurry around him when he manages to open his eyes. He groans.

“Ah, Herr Stark. I was hoping you would awaken soon.”

Tony blinks a few times. He doesn’t recognize the voice, but he can tell it has a German lilt to it, further confirmed by the use of Herr.

Cold washes through him.

Not HYDRA. Please, don’t be HYDRA.

His eyes come into focus, and the Red Skull stands in front of him, his face smug.

“Do not bother trying to escape. The serum is already past the halfway point. Interrupting it at this point will lead to your certain death. You will soon be much stronger than you have ever been, Herr Stark! However, you need not worry. You won’t remember the pain—or much of _anything_ —before long.”

Tony fights to turn his head as pain laces ever part of his body.

He freezes, tensing, and his breath catches in his throat.

He sees the chair that plagues James’s nightmares.

“No,” he gasps out. The Red Skull laughs at him.

“Oh, _yes_ , Iron Man. Soon you will tell me everything I want to know, all of your own volition… including where my precious Winter Soldier is.”

A woman comes out from a different room. Tony feels the tears on his face as she examines him clinically, like he’s not even human.

“Why’s he crying? I figured he’d love to be more powerful, to serve a righteous cause. Just look at that atrocity in his heart. It’s going to be so exciting and fascinating to watch when Extremis pushes it out of him.”

Fear swallows Tony whole. A new wave of pain overtakes him, and the woman grows hazy. He can tell she and the Red Skull are talking, but he can’t make it out.

The world fades to black.

* * *

“We found him, Cap,” Janet says, and Steve is running for the quinjet before she’s even done.

“Wheels up in five!” Everyone is rushing just as fast as he is. Clint and Natasha have already started the take off procedure when he arrives.

As soon as they take off, Steve faces Janet. “Where is he?”

“Texas, of all places. It’s this research company called FuturePharm. Their building is out in the middle of nowhere and they’ve had a lot of shady business deals in the past seven months, led by the two head researchers, Maya Hansen and Aldrich Killian. They’re set to lose their government research grant at the beginning of next month.”

Steve clenches his jaw. He’s going to get Tony back. He has to.

* * *

“Holy shit,” Clint whistles. “Looks like someone beat us here.”

Steve walks over to the cockpit windows and looks out. His breathing stops.

The south side of the building is just—completely gone. Annihilated. Like a bomb had exploded. A majority of the rest of it is on fire, excluding the eastern portion, and there are dead HYDRA agents strewn all across the ground, puddles of blood merging into a red sea.

“We don’t have time to waste,” Steve says. “We need to find Tony, and we need to find him fast. We don’t know if whoever did this damage is friendly or not. Be on your guard.”

Steve drops out of the quinjet with a rolling start, dodging the bodies and blood as best as he can. He enters the building at a sprint, turns a corner, and slows to a walk with his shield held out in front of him.

Bodies continue to appear around each corner. A few hang from improvised nooses. Most have either shot wounds through their heads or collapsed chest cavities.

There’s a grunt off to the side of a hallway. Steve walks over to it, careful to keep quiet, and mutters into his comm. “I hear something. Northeast corridor. Headed in to check it out.”

“Be careful, Cap.” Steve doesn’t need to see Natasha to imagine her face, based only off her tone: furrowed brow, alert emerald green eyes, and parted lips ready to yell at any moment.

He walks into the open door and sees a woman dead on the floor, a knife wound running from her throat to her waist, flung against a wall with little to no care. The attack is more personal than the rest of the soldiers. She must be the lead scientist, Maya Hansen.

Another grunt captures his attention and he walks around the open door to see—

The Winter Soldier is locked into battle with a man glowing red, on fire. Aldrich Killian.

He watches the two of them as they fight. The Soldier has his full mask on, obscuring his facial features, but Steve doesn’t need to see his face to recognize this man. Every cell in his body is screaming one word.

_Bucky._

Bucky’s being careful yet ruthless in his attacks. Killian is shirtless, and his skin glows like there’s molten lava underneath it. Bucky attacks with his metal arm and with a staff of some sort in his other hand, and he’s dodging each attack aimed at his body.

Killian is giving as good as he’s getting. It’s obvious from even just these few seconds of observation that they’re well matched, if only because Bucky doesn’t have the proper heat shielding on his body.

Steve scans the rest of the room quickly and spies Tony.

“I have Tony,” he says into the comms. “Hansen is dead. The Winter Soldier is fighting Killian. Do not engage.”

“Copy that, Army,” Carol says. “We found some straggler scientists. Think you can handle that on your own while we round them up?”

“I’ve got it, Air Force.”

Steve bends down next to Tony, reaching for his neck to check for a pulse, but stops at the last moment. The same molten lava glow is under Tony’s skin and Steve curses under his breath. Steve hovers his hands over Tony’s skin. The heat emanating off of him is powerful.

Instinct is the only thing that saves him when Killian _breathes fire_ in his direction. His shield covers both him and Tony and the fire deflects, harmless, in other directions.

Bucky takes a half second glance to check on Steve and Tony, and it’s enough for Killian to get a free swipe at him. His mask comes off with a clunk.

“You don’t have any false faces left, Winter Soldier!” Killian shouts. “The Red Skull said you would come for him. We found the little tracker you put in his arc reactor. But it’s too late. Extremis has bonded with his body, and he’s never going to be yours again!”

The sound that Bucky makes doesn’t even sound _human_ , filled with such rage and anger that Steve feels fear down to his bones.

“You want him back, don’t you?” Killian laughs, high and reedy. “But you can’t. You failed your mission, Soldier. He’s mine now. _We are Extremis_!”

Steve flings his shield at Killian and knocks him to the ground. Bucky doesn’t waste a second, slamming his metal fist into Killian’s head—but Killian _laughs_ , like it’s _nothing_ , and adjusts his broken jaw as he spits out blood.

Steve catches his shield on the rebound and raises it up, slamming it down toward Killian’s chest, but Killian manages to reach up and block it with one hand, his laughter turning hysterical.

“Extremis will prevail! You will _never_ have your Tony Stark back again!”

And Steve—Steve sees _red_ , and it’s like he and Bucky are back in World War II, perfectly in sync, when Steve reaches over for one of the knives strapped to Bucky’s leg. He pulls it out, and Bucky grabs the shield, slamming it horizontally down on Killian’s torso, trapping both of Killian’s arms, and puts all his weight on it. Killian is still laughing when Steve brings the knife down, stabbing it through Killian’s trachea and dragging it across his neck until his head tears apart from his body.

Bucky doesn’t stop there. He lifts the shield from Killian’s torso, flinging it out of the way, and reaches his metal hand into Killian’s chest. He tears through the skin and muscle and bone like it’s _paper_ , and when he yanks his hand back out, Killian’s heart is in it.

Bucky crushes it, and the two of them watch as the blood drips down Bucky’s arm, splattering back into the open wound in Killian’s chest.

Bucky breathes heavily. Adrenaline races through Steve’s veins as he stares at the crushed organ in Bucky’s hand. Steve can’t pinpoint what he’s feeling, which emotion is strongest: anger and relief and joy and lust are all bundled up in a tight knot in his chest.

Steve drags his eyes to Bucky’s face, and it really sinks in, then, that _this is Bucky_ , and he’s here, with Steve, and—and then Bucky squeezes the heart in his hand even further, and as parts of it slip from between his fingers, he growls, low. “You’re late.”

Steve freezes as overwhelming shame _slams_ into him—but before he can begin to panic or say anything in reply, Bucky looks up, meets Steve’s eyes, and smiles at him. “… Punk.”

Steve rushes forward and kisses Bucky, letting all of his emotions swallow him whole, letting them take control of all that Steve is.

Bucky raises his metal hand, and the sound of the rest of the heart falling to the ground should be disgusting, should make Steve recoil, but it doesn’t. Bucky’s fingers trail over Steve’s cheek. Killian’s blood drips from his skin into his beard, and he feels _alive_ , like this is where he’s meant to be. By Bucky’s side, killing anyone who dares to hurt Tony.

At the thought, he pulls back from Bucky with a gasp, _Tony_ stumbling from his lips in a hurry, and he turns back to Tony’s prone body. The fire is still bright under Tony’s skin, and he’s still too hot, Steve can’t touch him, but Bucky—Bucky doesn’t have the same problem.

He places his metal hand over Tony’s forehead, then drags it down Tony’s bare chest. A trail of blood follows in its wake.

It’s only then that Steve realizes something he should have noticed straight away.

Tony’s chest is smooth. The arc reactor is gone.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky says. “Time to wake up.”

He walks his fingers along Tony’s chest, then back up toward his neck, resting there for just a moment before cupping his jaw.

And just like that, Tony _does_ , and the fire begins to abate under his skin as his eyelashes flutter. He looks up and sees Bucky first, and Tony reaches out, a weak hand falling against Bucky’s chest. “I knew you would come, James.”

“I told ya, doll. Until the last star in the sky collapses, I’m here. You’re mine.”

“Yeah.” Tony breathes, slow, in and out. “I’m yours.”

With that, Tony falls back under, and Bucky lifts him up in his arms. He turns to face Steve, and his eyes are commanding as much as they’re soft.

“We’ve got stuff to talk about, punk. Let’s go.”

Everything Steve wants in his life is here in front of him, and now that he has them both, he’s not going anywhere.

* * *

Tony comes to surrounded by clouds. His eyelids feel like they both weigh a tonne, but he fights against it. An urgent need under his skin demands for him to open his eyes, and he does, unsure of what he’ll see.

He’s in James’s bed in the basement of the Mansion. Steve lays sideways in front of him, shirtless, his arm thrown around Tony’s waist, each breath measured and even in his sleep. Tony smiles at the sight. Movement behind him has Tony relaxing back against a firm chest.

“You let yourself see him,” Tony says.

James hums behind him, his hand on Tony’s hip while he mouths at Tony’s ear. Tony’s breath hitches, and he presses back against James harder, wanting to be closer, closer, closer.

“Almost made me rescue you by myself.” Tony thinks he should be offended at the implication that he couldn’t have saved himself, but it’s _James_.

James’s hand tightens around Tony’s hip. Tony feels surrounded, safe and corralled in, with James pressed against Tony’s back and Steve laying in front of him.

“I helped at the end,” Steve says, and Tony opens his eyes—when did he close them?—to the sight of Steve gazing at James and him with a tender, fond visage. “But you should’ve seen the damage he dealt trying to get to you, sweetheart.”

“Well, he’s _mine_ , punk.” It’s like James is reading a fact from a history book. “‘M not ‘bout to let anyone keep him from me.”

“He’s mine, now, too, isn’t he?” Steve voice holds a hint of anxiety, and Tony reaches a hand out to cup Steve’s face, running his fingers through Steve’s beard.

“You’re _both_ mine, Stevie. I’m done bein’ separated from my boys.”

Steve shudders and Tony can’t take it anymore. Having him in James’s bed, the one place Tony has wanted him but has never been able to have, is like all of his desires coming true at once. He drags Steve close into a kiss.

James’s hand is like a brand on Tony’s hip. Tony feels loved, and he needs to be closer to James, to Steve, needs to crawl into their skin and make a home there where nothing can hurt any of them anymore. He needs it like he needs to _breathe_.

He reaches his other hand out and pulls Steve closer, fitting their chests together, and leans back against James, too, rolling his hips against James’s. He wants them both so close, surrounding them, and he shivers with _need_ , a tiny moan escaping his mouth when Steve bites his lip.

“ _Stop_.” James pulls Tony back from Steve’s mouth. “You need ta sleep, doll.”

The command races through Tony’s veins, and countless nights of pleasure and submitting and love pass through his vision. Tony shivers, and then groans, rasping out, “I’m fine. I want—I _need_ you. Please, James.”

“Insatiable brat.” James sighs, but his tone is laced with amusement. Tony knows he isn’t really upset. James is never upset when Tony tells him what he wants. “You need to _sleep_.”

“But _sir_ —” Tony whines, and James _growls_ in response, his hand cupping underneath Tony’s chin, pulling his head back against James’s cheek.

“Enough, brat. You’re not allowed to do that again.” There’s a pause following James’s words, and Tony bites his lip, waiting for James’s next move.

“From now on, you’re goin’ with me on missions or you’re not goin’ at all.”

“I can take care of myself.” Tony scowls, offended at the implication that he can’t. James gives him a _look_ , and Tony bristles. “ _Sergeant_. I can take care of myself.”

The word winds James up, as it always does, and his hand is almost painful under Tony’s chin. “Sure ya can,” he agrees, “but I ain’t lettin’ ya.”

A rustle in front of him draws his attention, and Tony meets Steve’s eyes. He can see the same seriousness that’s in James’s voice. “HYDRA is after you, Tony, and they’ve proven that they have the means to capture you. I know you probably already have ideas simmering in the back of your brain about how to prevent it, but they’re determined. It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable—nothing could be farther from the truth. You’re the most resourceful member of the Avengers, and I’m positive you could have gotten out of Killian’s clutches if you had been given the time. This is about _us_ needing to know you’re safe.”

Tony’s resolve wavers. He wants to protest more, but he’s so tired, still exhausted from having his body chemistry changed so quickly and so drastically.

He nods his head.

“There’s my good boy.” James hand moves down from Tony’s chin to settle over his heart. “Ya need more sleep, now. I can tell you’re still tired. Ya ain’t arguin’ with me nearly as much as ya should be, little brat.”

Even being tired, Tony sees an opportunity, and he takes it by the reins. “If I argue with you now, will you fuck me back into submission?”

“I said no, doll.” James’s fingers flex. “I’ll fuck ya later after you’ve had more sleep. Maybe I’ll even let ya suck Stevie off at the same time. I take care of you, don’t I? Hmm?”

“Y-Yeah.” The need to please builds inside Tony. He can’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s. “You take care of me, Sergeant.”

James hums. “My good boy.”

Steve’s eyes break from his, and Tony knows exactly what look James is giving him, because Steve nods his head, just once, and moves his hips away from Tony’s.

“Let me just hold ya for now,” James says. “Fall asleep whenever ya want. We’ll both be here when you wake up. I promise.”

Tony presses himself closer to James, struggling not to rut back against his hard cock. Steve reaches out, lightly running his fingers up and down Tony’s arm, soothing.

Before Tony knows it, he falls asleep, surrounded, loved, and safe.


End file.
